


Never Forgotten

by M_E_Lover



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:04:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_E_Lover/pseuds/M_E_Lover
Summary: Harold has made a bargain with an unknown individual. To spare John's life he has agreed to die.Major character death but virtually no violence described.Another story that elbows should avoid at all cost!





	Never Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I've done it again. I've killed off my sweetheart! Why, you may ask? Well if I knew the answer to that question I might not write so much death and misery into my attempts at entertaining those individuals who, like myself, love the drama of tragic fics.  
> Please forgive me!  
> As always many thanks to oddgit for the beta!!!

“My father was my role model in all things.” Harold said wistfully, staring somewhere off in the distance; a sad smile playing on his lips.

“He was the consummate gentleman,” he explained further. “All the ladies in town had their eye on him but he was devoted to my mother… much to their disappointment.” He turned to meet John’s eyes. 

“She died when I was three but to him, she still lived in his mind. He never looked at another woman as far as I could tell.” He inclined his head and went quiet, lost in thought.

“Was he happy?” John asked gently, “I mean in general, raising a son on his own.”

Harold took a deep painful breath. “I think as much as he could be.” He winced and John wasn’t sure if it was in response to the pain of the poison traveling through his bloodstream, or the memory of his father.

“He used to play catch with me in the evenings if there was any daylight left after tending to the animals and the farming was done.” Harold smiled and closed his eyes recalling the memory, the sound of the baseball hitting the center of the leather catcher’s mitt his father had given to him for his ninth birthday. “He scrimped and saved for more than four months to buy it for me… foregoing his pipe Tabaco so that he could spend some father son time with me.”

“He must have loved you a great deal.”

Harold felt his mind beginning to stagnate as the effects of the toxic drug became more prominent. 

He likened the effects to those that took his father from him at a brutally young age. He tried desperately to claw his way out of the thick aura that threatened to take his voice from him, as well as his memories.

“And I loved him.” 

They were becoming much more distant now; the remembrances of his hard childhood. The harsh winters and the tough laborious work. 

“Harold?” John prompted his partner gently as the seconds turned to long moments of silence.

“Hmm?” He was trying to focus on his father’s face behind his closed eyelids. It was almost impossible to remember his features now, they were fading fast. 

“Stay with me.” John put his hand over his dying partner’s heart, feeling the organ begin to slow beneath his palm.

“He didn’t understand what was happening to him John…” Harold said tremulously. "He had no clue."

“I know, Finch.”

“He'd forgotten me…” Harold opened his eyes and looked into John’s sympathetic blue ones and frowned. “He didn’t even know who I was at the end." Harold swallowed back his grief and tried to think past the pain as he continued remembering that sorrow filled piece of his life, "I knew then John... in that very moment, I knew that he was truly lost to me forever.”

“I'm so sorry Harold,” John choked out.

“It wasn’t fair… it wasn’t right... to take his memories from him like that.” Harold sighed forlornly.

“No, it wasn’t fair.” John blinked away the tears as Harold’s breathing started to become shallow and he closed his eyes again. John could feel the strength fading from his body as he held him tighter in his embrace.

“I’m going… going to see him again, aren’t I John…? He was still clinging to whatever memory he had of his father. The vision was fading. “Please let me see him…”

“Yes, Harold, you’re going to see him.” John took a shuddering breath.

Harold seemed to relax for a moment, a temporary calm as John watched him, memorizing every feature, burning every scrap of the brutal reality into his mind. The discomfort so clearly evident in every line of his pale face.

“I won’t forget you… John,” he murmured weakly, “Not ever…”

As John held Harold in his arms and looked down upon his expression of pain, he wanted to tear the world apart. 

This wasn’t fair either. That Harold had made a deal with someone that John would never even know to save him, was a hot dagger to his heart… but Harold made the decision without informing him beforehand. 

Whoever the bastard was had won the barter and taken a great man’s life as payment.

“John…!” Harold gasped and reached out for him blindly, agitated and distressed as he flailed his arm out in search of him.

John caught his hand and held it to his chest, desperate to hold on to him just a little longer.

“I’m here, Harold.”

“I’m sorry… sorry, John…” Harold tried to hold on for dear life… squeezing his hand with surprising strength. 

“Don’t say that, Finch. You did what I would have done in your place... to save me.” John pulled Harold’s weakening body closer and held him a little tighter. He could tangibly feel his partner's life-force being drained from him and his heart was breaking.

“I’m so… so sorry…” Harold continued to whisper urgently, a plea for absolution only John could grant him. “I’m sorry…please forgive me John... please.”

"Shhh... it's alright, it's okay Harold." John rocked his partner gently, running his hand over his soft hair as tears ran from his eyes. 

Harold went quiet and motionless suddenly and John drew away from him and saw that Harold was looking just over his shoulder. “He’s here… John.” His clear blue eyes began to dim. John saw the end approaching and had to repress the wail of grief and rage that wanted to unleash itself at the injustice of it all.

Harold smiled warmly into John’s tear filled eye’s, “He’s waiting for me… can I go?”

Tears spilled over, “You can go, Finch.”

Another smile of thanks for John and Harold’s focus lifted above him towards the ceiling. His eyes were tracking something only he could see until they went still and John felt Harold’s overwrought body relax fully in his embrace and he exhaled his final breath. 

He took a deep shuddering breath and watched on mournfully as the smile faded from Harold's lips and the light faded from his eyes.

John had known for some time now just how important Harold’s father had been to him. The revelation of just how much he loved him was now clear. 

John held Harold’s body close to him and sobbed quietly for a long time then then he let go and gently, reverently laid him down. He would soon begin planning for his burial. 

He would be placed next to his father in Iowa. They would be together again on earth as they are now in the place beyond. 

John would see to it personally. No matter what.


End file.
